


Incarceration

by tzigane, Zaganthi (Caffiends)



Category: Red Dragon - Thomas Harris
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Confined/Caged, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-27
Updated: 2010-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-08 19:31:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzigane/pseuds/tzigane, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/pseuds/Zaganthi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The door shutting behind him made his heart beat frantically, terror sparking off of his nerves for a moment, but Hannibal sat down at his desk again, and music began to play quietly, a concerto of some sort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incarceration

It was over.

He was repeating it to himself as he unlocked the front door, and closed it behind him, knocking snow off of his boots and onto the welcome mat. He'd have to get up early and shovel in the morning, and to what end? The city would probably still be in a panic of flail and shut down. And his case was closed.

Now if he could just get his mind to shut down, too, that would be fantastic. Beyond that, because he wasn't sure how to stop sometimes. The case got to be part of him, crawled into his brainpan and wouldn't get out, and sometimes that was worse even than the case itself. When it got that way, it was almost enough to make him want to do something final and fatal just to get it to stop.

It helped, he supposed, that he wasn't really the suicidal sort, that emotionally he felt as hollowed out and dead inside as most of his victims. 

His victims, oh, it was past time to get his mind to shut down. Past time. His targets? His cases. His guys. "Hannibal...? Do you want me to put tea on?" He knew he'd just be in the study.

"No, Will. I think not. Why don't you come inside? I've got something of a surprise planned."

A surprise. That could be any of dozens of things, not all of them necessarily good.

He almost wanted to flinch, but he stopped, taking off his coat, unwinding his scarf absently as he toed out of his shoes. His socks insulated his feet from the wooden floor when he stepped onto it, heading doggedly to the study.

There was Hannibal, seated behind the desk, fingers steepled together. He was leaning back, and he seemed as if he'd been there for quite some time, patient and knowing that Will would inevitably arrive. "Jack called. He said things went quite well today."

"Did he? I double tap a guy, and Jack calls and says things went well." Will grimaced at himself, folding his arms over his chest as he looked at Hannibal.

"Ah, well. Jack has always had a peculiar idea of what constitutes something going well. Come here, Will. I'm sure you need to wind down a bit, considering your day. I'd have thought about things a bit more had I realized exactly what was involved, but this will have to do."

This. This, and Will was afraid of _this_ and he wanted to lunge forward and just snap Hannibal's neck, twist and tug and pull until it came off in his hands, which Will knew would take some work. He'd seen it, and the results of it, and instead he walked forwards, mind drifting somewhere off to the left of reality so that he could deal with whatever _this_ happened to be. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he would be not dealing with it, but that didn't matter. This thing, it didn't require anything like a degree of accuracy.

"Open your mouth for me, Will, and close your eyes."

"Why?" He needed, wanted to know why, wasn't just going to be obedient to Hannibal.

"Because I'm going to give you something that will calm your nerves. It will help with what's happened today, and you can tell me all about it once we've begun. I think it's the proper thing to do, don't you?" Except there was a devilish light in those sherry-colored eyes, nearly a gleaming pinpoint of red deep in the pupils. He was an apostate of hell, and somehow Will had gotten accustomed to his demonic ways so that he was nearly hypnotized by him already, within only a handful of minutes.

He opened his mouth, but kept his eyes open in a lone act of defiance, waiting. Hannibal lifted an eyebrow and gave one of his odd smiles, then gently slipped a white tab into his mouth, settling it under his tongue.

Will swallowed, let saliva settle around it, and didn't close his eyes yet, because following all the rules never got him anywhere that he couldn't go with defiance.

"There. Now. Sit down. Here. Close by for a bit, yes? I think that would be quite nice. I'll bring in the tea."

Will pulled out the usual chair. Hannibal's patients sat there sometimes, and Will wondered how much different from those poor bastards he was. Probably not that much, he figured, staying still while the drug filtered into his system. It was numbing, maybe making him a little sleepy. Not enough to knock him out, God help him, but... numb. Maybe it was enough for him not to remember whatever came next.

Maybe it was enough for him not to remember what had come before it, too.

He settled down, slumping a little in the chair, and just waited for whatever was going to come next.

Hannibal rose, moved soundlessly across the room, and was gone. He disappeared for a while, and Will stared at the wall, quietly going deeper and deeper into his own mind. It seemed like a short forever before Hannibal was back with the tea tray, setting things down nearby him.

"Here you are, Will, my boy. This will help, I think."

Tea. Tea was going to help. "I'm not thirsty." He was zoned out, sank in on himself, tired and miserable and torquing inside with urges that weren't his own. He'd be like that for weeks, trying to get that man out of his head and unable to do so.

"Drink it, Will." The tone of voice had him reaching out, lifting the cup before he could even blink.

It was scary how it worked, how Will answered to that even when he didn't want to. He took the cup, and sat back, curling his fingers around it as he took a sip. "I don't want to play games tonight. I just want to rest." Not that it would happen that way, but he felt as though he should say something. Make his feelings known, and he sipped again, finally closing his eyes.

"There. Just like that."

Just like that. Will took another sip, and then just held the cup in his hands, fingers loose, waiting. It was disorienting, and he was sure that was part of the plan as well.

"Now. I think you're feeling a bit better. We're going to go down now, Will. Do you understand? We're going to go deep. I want you to stand up. I know you can."

He hated going down, hated going deep, hated letting go, even if Hannibal thought it was the best thing for him, Will still fought it every step of the way. "Fine." Fine, and he would stand up and take whatever was coming.

Hannibal waited patiently until he was on his feet and smiled. "Open your mouth for me, Will."

Again? And he didn't want to, resolutely did not want to, but he did, and opened his mouth, waiting for another pill, another something to tamp him down slipped into his mouth. Instead, it was a gag, a rubber ball slipped in between his teeth so that he wanted to yell, loud and angry. Wanted to, but he couldn't seem to make the effort. It was easier to let him buckle the gag into his mouth and silence him.

"That's just as it should be, then. Why don't you take off your clothes for me, Will?"

He opened his eyes, and he hoped the look he was giving Hannibal burnt him. How about he told him where to stick it? That was an option, even if Will started to shrug out of his suit coat.

"There, there, Will. You should trust me. Now and then, I have quite a good idea. The sort that will help you, even if you think you know better than I do."

He grumbled against the ball in his mouth, an effort that made his jaw ache a little while he started to unbuckle his belt. He was too strung out to fight. Too high and too tired and too fucked up to begin with, never mind now. By the time he'd stripped down to his skin, Hannibal was seated, watching him with his hands steepled again.

"Come here."

He came towards Hannibal, standing awkwardly in front of him. One of his knees was hurting from where he'd slipped on ice and whacked it on a tree trunk. He'd skinned it a little, but the bleeding had stopped. He'd live.

"Look at the side of my desk, Will. I'd ask you to tell me what you see, but obviously you can't."

It looked like a large wicker box, which was... bizarre, and it was metal laced. No. It was a metal frame, and wood, and there was wicker woven in spanning the gaps, closing it off. It was very large, and just... odd. Odd and he couldn't quite work out what it was from that angle. Hannibal stood, and he was behind him, then, making Will shiver.

"On your knees, if you please, Will. This will only take a moment."

He eased down to his knees, trying not to focus, trying not to think about tense muscles and the way his body started to shiver in almost fear. Hannibal reached forward, pulled gently at the metal. Springs tugged, just a little, and one side, a door, slipped open.

"Inside now. You'll stay here for a bit, I think."

There was a flat looking body pillow inside, and maybe other things. Will wasn't sure, but he moved to his hands and crawled forward, carefully. It was definitely big enough for him to fit inside, though he wasn't sure he wanted to go inside the cage. He was frankly terrified, despite the distance of the drugs, that he might not ever come out again.

The door shutting behind him made his heart beat frantically, terror sparking off of his nerves for a moment, but Hannibal sat down at his desk again, and music began to play quietly, a concerto of some sort.

He was completely ignoring Will.

Will knelt inside of it, stock still for a few moments, and then started to feel around. There was a pillow in there, a normal pillow, and a fleece blanket. He wasn't sure what to do, and so long minutes stretched out with him kneeling, his knee throbbing, uncertainty filling him. Hannibal said nothing, though, and so finally he began to shift, to settle. Pushed the blanket to the side and laid down on his side, legs drawn up . A moment's worth of fidgeting covered him with a blanket.

"Sleep well, Will."

Okay. All right. Sleep in the cage overnight. It was dark, darker than the room itself was because of the tight woven wicker, and it wasn't horrible, wasn't uncomfortable. The ball gag was going to drive him crazy, but... but he was tired. He was so fucking tired.

Will closed his eyes, and curved his arms about himself. It was funny. The wicker around the cage made him feel closed in, but not claustrophobic. Made him feel weirdly safe, even with Hannibal in the room, and he drew in a deep breath through his nose before letting it out again.

Maybe he could get used to this physically caged thing.


End file.
